


Where the Fuck are my Clothes?

by CarmillaCarmine



Series: Ballads of a Witcher and a Bard [6]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Clothed Sex, Crack, Feelings, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Crack, Geralt in a kilt, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has a Big Dick, Jaskier doesn't know how to get to Geralt's thick skull, Jaskier | Dandelion Has a Big Dick, Kilts, M/M, Overstimulation, POV Jaskier | Dandelion, Porn with Feelings, Sex, Sex against the wall, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, Touch-Starved Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, against the wall ch3 -for Geraskier Kink Bingo, clothed sex ch2- for Geraskier Kink bingo, so he takes a risk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23820061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarmillaCarmine/pseuds/CarmillaCarmine
Summary: Jaskier decided that the party at Calanthe's castle was a great opportunity to dress Geralt however he wanted. Luckily enough, he managed to procure a kilt for the Witcher.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Ballads of a Witcher and a Bard [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710100
Comments: 84
Kudos: 664
Collections: Geraskier Kink Bingo, Good Relationship Etiquette (familial included) - or Good BDSM Etiquette - or Good Relationship and BDSM Etiquette, Interesting Character and/or Interesting Relationship Development, Witcher Kink Meme (Dreamwidth)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Geralt in a kilt](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/611137) by spencer b. 



> Ignore the fact that kilts weren’t a thing in medieval times, this is fictional world and anything goes :P  
> The boys are a bit softer than in the show. I'm mixing the books and games a bit into their characters.

“Where the fuck are my clothes, Jaskier?”

“Ah, well… They were sort of covered in selkiemore guts, so I sent them away to be washed. Anyway, you’re not going tonight as a Witcher…”

That was how Geralt ended up attending Princess Pavetta’s engagement ball in a kilt. A dark-green tartan kilt. Jaskier was particularly proud of his choice of attire for his Witcher as he paused to let Geralt walk in front of him so he could take a better look. Jaskier’s eyes started their journey at the mid-calf leather boots that accentuated Geralt’s muscled calves, then moved to the bare skin behind Geralt’s knees that made him wish he could kiss it just to see if the White Wolf was ticklish. The doublet looked a bit tight on Geralt but it showcased his wide shoulders perfectly. His previously tangled hair was now brushed to perfect smoothness, although the process had earned Jaskier several new nicknames of the unpleasant variety. 

As the party continued, Jaskier found himself ogling Geralt’s knees, which peeked out when he was leaning against the wall, as if posing for a painting. The man had to know how handsome he was; he seemed to be flaunting the fact before Jaskier every chance he had. 

There was something more than friendship between them, Jaskier was sure of that, but it was hard to get through the dark, brooding walls Geralt had clearly put up to keep people away. Slowly and meticulously, Jaskier had been working on chipping them brick by brick, mostly by opening up himself as well. 

During long nights in the woods or at a random inn as they travelled from town to town, they spent nights talking about simple things; favourite foods, plans about where to go next, women… 

In truth, it was mostly Jaskier who did the talking but in time, Geralt replied with a bit more than grunts, finally even telling him most of the stories behind his scars. Jaskier loved tracing his fingers along them when he tended to Geralt’s wounds and the Witcher never seemed to mind. They’d grown physically close, which came naturally with them being travel companions, but being naked in front of one another without looking away was more than practicality to Jaskier. Asking Jaskier to rub ointment onto his backside just hours before the party had been a clear indication that Geralt wasn’t shying from Jaskier’s touch either. 

Watching Geralt brooding by the wall with ale to his lips, Jaksier took a healthy sip from his own cup. Maybe it was time for him to make the first move, take a chance, just the way he had that first day they’d met when he’d approached Geralt.

Someone came over to Geralt and they ventured into a friendly conversation. Jaskier used the opportunity to move closer and inspect Geralt’s pert arse that lifted the kilt so that it looked shorter in the back than in front. 

He stood slightly behind Geralt so that his right hand could roam. Geralt stiffened a bit when Jaskier’s fingers gathered the kilt in the back to lift it. After all, touching Geralt’s bottom was nothing he hadn’t done before. Granted, it had never been in public nor this intimate but that was what added to the thrill. Finally, he managed to slip his hand under the kilt. His heart was pounding with excitement as his head discarded the possible negative consequences of such a bold move. 

Geralt didn’t move, pretending nothing was amiss. Jaskier bit his lip so as not to grin at the success of his mischief. He traced Geralt’s arse-cheek with his fingertips before he pinched it.

He kept inspecting Geralt’s profile. His jaw had clenched at the pinch as if annoyed but otherwise, he didn’t flinch or move, only kept listening to a man he’d referred to as Mousesack, nodding from time to time. Alas, no! Jaskier had been wrong with his initial appraisal, as Geralt’s cheeks had reddened a bit, giving Jaskier immense satisfaction. Quite proud of himself, he lowered the kilt and caressed the place he’d pinched through the tartan. 

Maybe he had had a bit too much ale, but he was hoping Geralt would either receive his message or think nothing of it. Only when he saw Geralt’s expression turn serious did he think that maybe he went about confessing his feelings to his best friend a bit too abruptly. Then again, Geralt had discarded all his subtle hints before. 

“Are you okay, my friend?” Mousesack asked, looking quizzically at Geralt’s expression.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Geralt replied, after which he turned abruptly, grabbed Jaskier by the arm, and marched him out into the hallway. Pinning Jaskier to a wall, he levelled their gazes. 

Geralt’s face was stern and angry, and the sight made Jaskier weak in the knees from wanton desire.

“What was that?” Geralt barked angrily and Jaskier thrust his chin up, feigning innocence. 

“I have no idea what you’re ta-”

“Don’t play with me, Jaskier!” Geralt gave him “the look” which usually meant imminent death for any other recipient, but for Jaskier just meant that Geralt was mildly annoyed. 

“Ah, well...that...That was a pinch.” Jaskier tried shrugging, but his arms were pinned by Geralt’s massive paws. He could explain that it meant nothing, that he’d been just having harmless fun, but he was done hiding. 

Geralt’s breathing quickened, and he clenched his jaw as he was clearly gearing up to explode. 

Instead, he said the one word that managed to carry a whole bag of emotions when it came from Geralt’s lips.

“Fuck.” 

Then he kissed Jaskier with a feral need, the likes of which Jaskier had never even dreamt to be kissed with. Jaskier opened to the touch, welcoming Geralt’s tongue with fervor, arching his body to get closer to his Witcher. A split second later, Jaskier found himself sandwiched between a hard wall and a hard body, and he felt dizzy from the onslaught of sensations as the kiss deepened. His entire being answered the call of Geralt’s body so close to his and he moaned as their tongues met in a needy caress.

Geralt broke the kiss and his hands travelled up to cup Jaskier’s face, releasing his arms. His yellow eyes bore into Jaskier with intense hunger as he breathed:

“Do that again, bard.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you want to take me right here and now, bard?” Geralt’s voice turned into a whisper that washed over Jaskier along with the realisation of what he was saying.  
> “I...uh… of course I do. I just never thought you….”  
> “Well then, stop stuttering and fuck me.”

“Do that again, bard,” Geralt’s baritone echoed through the hall.

“What?” Jaskier gasped in disbelief, looking at Geralt’s expression for any indication that he was joking.

“Do you desire me?” Geralt asked, his face still so close to Jaskier’s that he could see the gleam in his friend’s unearthly eyes. 

“I…” Jaskier’s words were stuck in his throat. He wanted to yell that he’d been lusting after his best friend since the day they’d met, but when confronted with the reality of Geralt wanting the same, he was unable to believe it. 

“Do you want to take me right here and now, bard?” Geralt’s voice turned into a whisper that washed over Jaskier along with the realisation of what he was saying.

“I...uh… of course I do. I just never thought you….”

“Well then, stop stuttering and fuck me.”

The words took Jaskier aback, the phrasing so different to Geralt’s usual sexual metaphors. 

“Someone could see us,” he whispered nervously as he motioned to the door they had just burst through. 

“I don’t give a flying  _ fuck _ ! Decide now or I’m going back in.”

“Well then…” Jaskier finally registered what was happening and let his desire take over. 

Without another word, he turned Geralt around and slammed him face-first to the wall. Although he was stronger, Geralt allowed Jaskier to manhandle him, and judging by the grunt of approval as his chest hit the wall, he enjoyed it. Fire kindled in Jaskier and an immense need to both fulfill his dreams and satisfy his best friend bloomed inside him.

Jaskier pressed his chest to Geralt’s back and lifted the kilt again, sliding his hand down to caress the cheek he’d neglected before. He pinched  _ hard _ . If that was what Geralt wanted, Jaskier was very happy to deliver. A low rumble in Geralt’s chest indicated his excitement, and Jaskier let go of his semi-propriety around his friend and released his need to claim Geralt to the forefront. He used both hands to knead the firm buttocks, before he delivered a smack that echoed through the corridor. 

“Good…” Geralt pushed his arse into Jaskier, placing his hands on the wall. Oh what a feat it was to see Geralt so greedy to have Jaskier inside him. 

Jaskier delivered another slap, so hard his palm stung. He knew that Geralt was perfectly aware that Jaskier was a lot stronger than he looked, and he was not pulling back now. He massaged the spot, then moved his hand to Geralt’s crease. 

“Do you have any oil? I saw you putting vials in your doublet pockets.”

Geralt reached behind himself to take Jaskier’s right hand and guided two fingers into his mouth, turning his head slightly. He swirled his tongue over them, slicking them with his saliva. Jaskier’s breathing picked up at the erotic sight, yet he knew that wouldn’t be enough.

“You know what to do. I’ve heard whispers every time we've entered a town you’ve been to before.”

Jaskier wasn’t offended by the comment, but by the tone of his voice it seemed that Geralt wasn’t fond of the information he’d shared. Was he jealous? Ooooh Jaskier hoped to Melitele that he was. 

With amped determination, Jaskier slid a finger into Geralt, the saliva helping only a little, but Geralt pushed wantonly onto his hand, so he added another digit and twisted them inside, stretching and preparing his best friend. 

“Hurry up,” came a growl despite Jaskier’s actions progressing a lot faster than what he was used to. 

“I’ll hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“But-”

“I heal fast,” Geralt breathed heavily, “and right now, I need your cock in me.”

“Well now…”

Jaskier untied the front of his breeches, just enough to take his cock out; after all, one shouldn’t argue with a Witcher. He spit on his hand and fisted his erection in a few hurried movements. The head was wet from precome and he spread it with his thumb, needing all the slickness he could get. He spat on his hand again and spread it on his cock before positioning it at Geralt’s entrance. 

“Tell me if it’s too much.”

“Don’t flatter yourse--...mmmmm...” 

Geralt’s lewd response defied his words as Jaskier pushed the head of his cock past the tight ring of muscle. He stopped for a moment to breathe as his body relished the squeeze and the fact that it was Geralt he was inside, way too much. He didn’t want to finish too fast or hurt Geralt. Having a different view on the matter apparently, Geralt pushed his arse back, seating Jaskier deeper inside by an inch. They stopped to breathe and Jaskier grappled inside Geralt’s doublet to find a lubricant. 

Fuck what Geralt thought he could take; Jaskier argued with Geralt all the time and their current predicament wouldn’t change his attitude all of a sudden. Geralt hadn’t seen him erect before and clearly underestimated that it wasn’t only Jaskier’s talent in the bedroom that had gotten him into trouble so many times, but also his endowment. 

“Not this one!” Geralt glared over his shoulder snatching the vial back from Jaskier’s hand. “Stubborn poet,” he muttered, then reached to retrieve a different vial, uncorked it with his teeth, and poured the contents on Jaskier’s waiting hand. He put the empty vial back and braced his hands on the wall again. 

Jaskier slid almost all the way out, slicked his cock and slowly pushed in, then retracted and repeated the motion. They both groaned in pleasure as their bodies finally met, the tight heat of Geralt’s body an experience that would sear itself into Jaskier’s memory.

Jaskier gripped Geralt’s hips under the kilt and pulled halfway out before slamming back in with such force, the sound of his pelvis meeting Geralt’s arse echoed like a slap. 

“That’s it!” Geralt encouraged, his right hand reaching to find his own cock. Jaskier smacked it aside, causing Geralt to growl in disapproval.

“No touching, I want you inside me too… ahhhh… you can’t rob me of this…” If this was his only chance at catching Geralt in a mood where he desired him carnally, he was determined to milk as much as possible from the encounter. 

Initially, he had wanted to reach a non-ejaculatory orgasm, but the glorious feeling of thrusting into Geralt’s tightness quickly removed such good intentions.

His grip would bruise a human but he worried not about that with Geralt, as he thrust with feral abandon, his whole being focused on the obscene grunts coming from his Witcher. The orgasm slammed into him like a tsunami, taking over his body in a rush of overwhelming pleasure. His grip loosened as his muscles relaxed and he could hear his breathing slowing.

Dizzy from the high but still seated deep inside Geralt, he leaned closer to kiss his best friend’s nape, an action he'd previously allowed himself only when Geralt was asleep next to him and wouldn’t know how deep Jaskier’s affection ran.

Geralt purred at the kiss before he moved. He detached himself and turned around, drawing a hiss from Jaskier's lips at the loss of wet heat on his spent erection. Then he hoisted Jaskier up as if he weighed nothing, and Jaskier, with a squeak of elation, wrapped his legs around Geralt’s waist.

“You’ll be ready again soon, won’t you?” Geralt breathed, carrying Jaskier, his hands firmly holding him by the buttocks.

“Yes, but I don’t want to wait even a second longer,” Jaskier confessed, his need for the Witcher nowhere near satisfied.

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll post ch3 in two days :)


	3. Chapter 3

Jaskier couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he tightened the grip of his thighs around Geralt as he carried him, hands under his bum. He marched several steps to their left until they reached an alcove that would keep them somewhat hidden from anyone stalking the halls. 

“Those need to come off.” Geralt glared at Jaskier’s breeches, putting him on his feet, then muttered a handful of elaborate curse words as he tugged them down. He pulled off Jaskier’s boots then slid the breeches off completely while Jaskier held on to his shoulders for balance, smiling at Geralt's frustration caused by wanting Jaskier so much. It would be very easy for him to get used to being carried around and undressed like that. “Next time, if you make me wear one of these,” Geralt motioned at his kilt, “you’ll be wearing one too.”

Jaskier stood stunned. All he could register from the statement was ‘next time’ and it filled him with warm elation. Could this truly be the beginning of a full-blown romantic relationship for them? Should he dare hope?

There was no time to dwell on it now, but the prospect revived his post-orgasm body with fresh enthusiasm. Geralt lifted Jaskier the same way as before, with Jaskier’s legs around his middle. With one hand, he hoisted the kilt up around his waist and pressed Jaskier’s back to the cold wall, his show of strength not lost on Jaskier.

“Hold onto me,” Geralt growled as he reached behind himself with one hand, holding the other under Jaskier’s bare bum. “Your seed is handy, bard,” he explained as he lifted his hand to show Jaskier how he'd coated his hand. He pressed a pad of his finger against Jaskier’s entrance, pushing gently but with clear impatience. The throaty mewl that left Jaskier prompted Geralt to continue and quickly enough, his finger breached Jaskier’s tight ring of muscle. Jaskier’s body was sensitive, yet he ached for Geralt to finally take him more than it was logical. Geralt’s name on his lips was a form of a plea as he rolled his hips, urging his Witcher to hurry up. Receiving the message, Geralt thrust two fingers into Jaskier, making him yelp at the burning pain that quickly turned into pleasure when the semen mixed with oil allowed his body to adapt to the thick digits. 

Geralt was rough and greedy, and by Lilit, Jaskier loved it. After that, the fingers slid slickly in, stretching Jaksier in preparation for Geralt’s massive cock, eliciting lascivious sounds out of him. 

“I’m not sure I can take…” Jaskier’s words were lost in a moan, as he rode Geralt’s fingers, feeling quite full already.

“Mmm yes you can…” Geralt murmured, then looked at Jaskier’s face and seemed to sober up from his lust for just a moment. “...but tell me if it’s too much and I’ll stop.”

Jaskier nodded in appreciation of how Geralt cared about him, even in the throes of passion. He was lost between deep adoration at the way Geralt let his emotional walls down for him tonight, and fiery lust at the feel of Geralt’s fingers leaving his body only to be replaced by his cock pressing against Jaskier’s entrance. He breathed in deeply as his tired, post-orgasm body accepted the head. 

The Witcher looked at him questioningly and Jaskier nodded again, unable to say in words how much he wanted Geralt inside him while he slowly pushed in, retracted, then pushed in a bit more. The fullness was exquisite, causing Jaskier to moan even louder and undulate his hips with eagerness.

“More…” he breathed, and Geralt thrust all the way, making their bodies slap loudly, filling Jaskier deeper than he’d ever experienced before.

Jaskier gasped at the motion that trapped his over-sensitised cock between them. The friction hurt as Geralt moved, but the pain only added to the feral need that had been born between them this evening.

“...so long…” Geralt’s whispered words were lost into Jaskier’s neck as he continued thrusting in and out. 

Jaskier tilted his head to the side when he felt his Witcher’s lips at his throat, kissing and licking until he sucked hard at one spot. It would leave a pretty purple mark, Jaskier could feel it, and he couldn’t wait to wear it with pride the next day. 

Geralt was clearly marking him and it was the epitome of his dreams. 

Jaskier hissed as Geralt’s calloused fingers wrapped around his recovering cock, gently tugging to the rhythm of his thrusts.

“I can’t go again, not yet…ohhhh Geralt…” He slid his hands into the Witcher’s white hair, grabbing handfuls of the strands he’d brushed only hours ago.

“Yes, you can. One more for me, bard. At least one more,” he encouraged, his fist moving almost tenderly over the sensitive flesh, causing Jaskier’s determination to spike. He felt his body slowly recuperate from the orgasm Geralt had ripped from him mere minutes ago.

“You feel exquisite, Geralt, superb…” Jaskier panted. The praise only seemed to fuel Geralt’s movements, so he continued talking, “You’re filling me so well… Ravish me...I need you to come inside me...please Geralt!” 

Geralt’s movements became more frantic, his grunts deeper, and Jaskier felt his libido recover fully just as Geralt let go of his cock. 

“I’ve waited so long...Jaskier...fuck….” Geralt groaned, his muscles straining, cock spasming inside Jaskier’s body for what seemed like minutes. He came holding Jaskier close so tightly, it was hard to breathe, before he loosened his grip and nuzzled Jaskier’s neck.

He felt Geralt’s sharp canines trace the skin of his neck, making him shiver. The little bites showed playful affection no one would ever suspect Geralt capable of. No one except Jaskier. For the length of that moment, Jaskier felt like the most cherished person that had ever been enveloped in Geralt’s arms.

With strong hands on Jaskier’s hips, Geralt held him as he slid out of his body. Jaskier whimpered at the loss, his wobbly legs barely able to hold him upright as they touched the ground. 

Thankfully, Geralt didn’t let go. Instead, he looked up, his yellow stare soft but mischievous.

“I said, one more, bard,” he reminded in a lewd voice that allowed no argument before he took Jaskier’s fully erect cock between his lips.

Tears sprang to Jaskier’s eyes at the intensity of the feeling of Geralt’s mouth wrapped around his cock. He sucked gently at first, then harder, his head bobbing as Jaskier’s hands gripped the white hair again, guiding. He knew he didn’t need much, not with the view of Geralt, hair gorgeously tousled, on his knees before him. Jaskier’s body tensed again, his muscles straining, his back arching as he felt tingling heat in his back and abdomen as the orgasm built in him.

“I’m… now, Geralt…” He had no strength left in him to pull Geralt away but had to give him enough warning to do so.

The Witcher however, just hollowed his cheeks and swallowed every single drop Jaskier gave him, holding him upright as Jaskier’s legs buckled, the release washing over him like a wave of heat. High-pitched gasps left Jaskier’s lips when Geralt’s tongue circled his erection on its way out, cleaning it meticulously. 

Geralt rested his forehead on Jaskier’s abdomen for the briefest of moments before, with one hand still on Jaskier, he reached with the other for the discarded pair of breeches and boots. He helped Jaskier get dressed with astounding efficiency while Jaskier’s body and mind were still processing what had just happened. His body just as weak as his heart when it came to Geralt, Jaskier looked at his best-friend-turned-lover. 

“We have to get back,” Jaskier said with no small amount of regret in his voice.

“Mmmm,” Geralt agreed, standing upright, his gaze travelling along Jaskier’s body to meet his gaze. “We’ll continue after this shitshow is over.”

“Continue?” Hope filled Jaskier and he tried hiding it from his expression, to no avail.

“I’m not done with you, bard. You promised a cornucopia of earthly delights, remember?” Geralt smirked, the corner of his lips turning into a crooked smile that showed one of his canines that Jaskier hoped he would get a chance to trace with his tongue soon. 

A joyous laugh burst out of him. “I remember,” he said. “I’ll keep my promise, mark my words,  _ Witcher. _ ” 

They were walking towards the ballroom, flushed, a bit disheveled but bent on pretending, for the sake of the general public, that nothing amiss had happened, when Jaskier remembered Geralt’s whispers right before he came inside Jaskier. “You were saying something, repeating it into my neck…” Jaskier touched the spot and heat filled his cheeks anew at the memory. “It sounded like ‘so long...’ What did you mean?” 

Geralt’s eyes lowered to the ground before he looked away, the hair that had fallen out of the tie in the back of his head covering part of his face. 

“Geralt?” Jaskier stopped his friend from walking away with a hand on his arm. He turned then, and the vulnerability in his eyes hit Jaskier in the heart. “You can tell me. It’s me, your best and only friend in the whole wide world. You can tell me anything.” 

“Mmm,” Geralt grumbled reluctantly.

“Come on…” Jaskier reached to gather Geralt’s hair off his face and fix it with the black tie at the back. 

“I waited so long for you…” Geralt looked up to meet Jaskier’s gaze before he continued. “Then I waited so long to take you, for you to take me…” his baritone voice was full of tenderness but his eyes didn’t waver from Jaskier’s, clearly waiting for a reaction. 

Jaskier cupped Geralt’s face in his palms and watched shock, understanding, and acceptance flow over his friend’s features. He placed a small kiss on Geralt’s lips and felt it reciprocated with a soft parting of the full lips he’d only ever kissed in his dreams before tonight.

“Me too, Geralt. My whole life.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, kudos and comments! 
> 
> If you enjoyed this fic, consider subscribing to my profile, or to a series that has all my Geraskier works:  
> ["Ballads of a Witcher and a Bard"](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710100)  
>   
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